A Girl Of The Limberlost

G >> Gene Stratton Porter >> A Girl Of The Limberlost


Elnora crossed the road, climbed the fence and sought the shelter of
their own woods. She chose a diagonal course and followed it until
she came to the path leading past the violet patch. She went down this
hurriedly. Her hands were clenched at her side, her eyes dry and bright,
her cheeks red-flushed, and her breath coming fast. When she reached the
patch she turned into it and stood looking around her.

The mosses were dry, the flowers gone, weeds a foot high covered it. She
turned away and went on down the path until she was almost in sight of
the cabin.

Mrs. Comstock smiled and waited in the arbour until it occurred to her
that Elnora was a long time coming, so she went to the gate. The road
stretched away toward the Limberlost empty and lonely. Then she knew
that Elnora had gone into their own woods and would come in the back
way. She could not understand why the girl did not hurry to her with
what she would have to tell. She went out and wandered around the
garden. Then she stepped into the path and started along the way leading
to the woods, past the pool now framed in a thick setting of yellow
lilies. Then she saw, and stopped, gasping for breath. Her hands flew up
and her lined face grew ghastly. She stared at the sky and then at the
prostrate girl figure. Over and over she tried to speak, but only a dry
breath came. She turned and fled back to the garden.

In the familiar enclosure she gazed around her like a caged animal
seeking escape. The sun beat down on her bare head mercilessly, and
mechanically she moved to the shade of a half-grown hickory tree that
voluntarily had sprouted beside the milk house. At her feet lay an axe
with which she made kindlings for fires. She stooped and picked it up.
The memory of that prone figure sobbing in the grass caught her with
a renewed spasm. She shut her eyes as if to close it out. That made
hearing so acute she felt certain she heard Elnora moaning beside the
path. The eyes flew open. They looked straight at a few spindling tomato
plants set too near the tree and stunted by its shade. Mrs. Comstock
whirled on the hickory and swung the axe. Her hair shook down, her
clothing became disarranged, in the heat the perspiration streamed, but
stroke fell on stroke until the tree crashed over, grazing a corner of
the milk house and smashing the garden fence on the east.

At the sound Elnora sprang to her feet and came running down the garden
walk. "Mother!" she cried. "Mother! What in the world are you doing?"

Mrs. Comstock wiped her ghastly face on her apron. "I've laid out to cut
that tree for years," she said. "It shades the beets in the morning, and
the tomatoes in the afternoon!"

Elnora uttered one wild little cry and fled into her mother's arms. "Oh
mother!" she sobbed. "Will you ever forgive me?"

Mrs. Comstock's arms swept together in a tight grip around Elnora.

"There isn't a thing on God's footstool from a to izzard I won't forgive
you, my precious girl!" she said. "Tell mother what it is!"

Elnora lifted her wet face. "He told me," she panted, "just as soon as
he decently could--that second day he told me. Almost all his life he's
been engaged to a girl at home. He never cared anything about me. He was
only interested in the moths and growing strong."

Mrs. Comstock's arms tightened. With a shaking hand she stroked the
bright hair.

"Tell me, honey," she said. "Is he to blame for a single one of these
tears?"

"Not one!" sobbed Elnora. "Oh mother, I won't forgive you if you don't
believe that. Not one! He never said, or looked, or did anything all the
world might not have known. He likes me very much as a friend. He hated
to go dreadfully!"

"Elnora!" the mother's head bent until the white hair mingled with the
brown. "Elnora, why didn't you tell me at first?"

Elnora caught her breath in a sharp snatch. "I know I should!" she
sobbed. "I will bear any punishment for not, but I didn't feel as if I
possibly could. I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?" the shaking hand was on the hair again.

"Afraid you wouldn't let him come!" panted Elnora. "And oh, mother, I
wanted him so!"




CHAPTER XVIII


WHEREIN MRS. COMSTOCK EXPERIMENTS WITH REJUVENATION, AND ELNORA TEACHES
NATURAL HISTORY


For the following week Mrs. Comstock and Elnora worked so hard there
was no time to talk, and they were compelled to sleep from physical
exhaustion. Neither of them made any pretence of eating, for they could
not swallow without an effort, so they drank milk and worked. Elnora
kept on setting bait for Catacolae and Sphinginae, which, unlike the
big moths of June, live several months. She took all the dragonflies and
butterflies she could, and when she went over the list for the man of
India, she found, to her amazement, that with Philip's help she once
more had it complete save a pair of Yellow Emperors.

This circumstance was so surprising she had a fleeting thought of
writing Philip and asking him to see if he could not secure her a pair.
She did tell the Bird Woman, who from every source at her command tried
to complete the series with these moths, but could not find any for
sale.

"I think the mills of the Gods are grinding this grist," said Elnora,
"and we might as well wait patiently until they choose to send a Yellow
Emperor."

Mrs. Comstock invented work. When she had nothing more to do, she hoed
in the garden although the earth was hard and dry and there were no
plants that really needed attention. Then came a notification that
Elnora would be compelled to attend a week's session of the Teachers'
Institute held at the county seat twenty miles north of Onabasha the
following week. That gave them something of which to think and real
work to do. Elnora was requested to bring her violin. As she was on the
programme of one of the most important sessions for a talk on nature
work in grade schools, she was driven to prepare her speech, also to
select and practise some music. Her mother turned her attention to
clothing.

They went to Onabasha together and purchased a simple and appropriate
fall suit and hat, goods for a dainty little coloured frock, and a dress
skirt and several fancy waists. Margaret Sinton came down and the sewing
began. When everything was finished and packed, Elnora kissed her mother
good-bye at the depot, and entered the train. Mrs. Comstock went into
the waiting-room and dropped into a seat to rest. Her heart was so sore
her whole left side felt tender. She was half starved for the food she
had no appetite to take. She had worked in dogged determination until
she was exhausted. For a time she simply sat and rested. Then she began
to think. She was glad Elnora had gone where she would be compelled to
fix her mind on other matters for a few days. She remembered the girl
had said she wanted to go.

School would begin the following week. She thought over what Elnora
would have to do to accomplish her work successfully. She would be
compelled to arise at six o'clock, walk three miles through varying
weather, lead the high school orchestra, and then put in the remainder
of the day travelling from building to building over the city, teaching
a specified length of time every week in each room. She must have her
object lessons ready, and she must do a certain amount of practising
with the orchestra. Then a cold lunch at noon, and a three-mile walk at
night.

"Humph!" said Mrs. Comstock, "to get through that the girl would have to
be made of cast-iron. I wonder how I can help her best?"

She thought deeply.

"The less she sees of what she's been having all summer, the sooner
she'll feel better about it," she muttered.

She arose, went to the bank and inquired for the cashier.

"I want to know just how I am fixed here," she said.

The cashier laughed. "You haven't been in a hurry," he replied. "We have
been ready for you any time these twenty years, but you didn't seem to
pay much attention. Your account is rather flourishing. Interest, when
it gets to compounding, is quite a money breeder. Come back here to a
table and I will show you your balances."

Mrs. Comstock sank into a chair and waited while the cashier read a
jumble of figures to her. It meant that her deposits had exceeded her
expenses from one to three hundred dollars a year, according to the
cattle, sheep, hogs, poultry, butter, and eggs she had sold. The
aggregate of these sums had been compounding interest throughout the
years. Mrs. Comstock stared at the total with dazed and unbelieving
eyes. Through her sick heart rushed the realization, that if she merely
had stood before that wicket and asked one question, she would have
known that all those bitter years of skimping for Elnora and herself had
been unnecessary. She arose and went back to the depot.

"I want to send a message," she said. She picked up the pencil, and with
rash extravagance, wrote, "Found money at bank didn't know about. If you
want to go to college, come on first train and get ready." She hesitated
a second and then she said to herself grimly, "Yes, I'll pay for that,
too," and recklessly added, "With love, Mother." Then she sat waiting
for the answer. It came in less than an hour. "Will teach this winter.
With dearest love, Elnora."

Mrs. Comstock held the message a long time. When she arose she was
ravenously hungry, but the pain in her heart was a little easier. She
went to a restaurant and ate some food, then to a dressmaker where she
ordered four dresses: two very plain every-day ones, a serviceable dark
gray cloth suit, and a soft light gray silk with touches of lavender
and lace. She made a heavy list of purchases at Brownlee's, and the
remainder of the day she did business in her direct and spirited way.
At night she was so tired she scarcely could walk home, but she built a
fire and cooked and ate a hearty meal.

Later she went out beside the west fence and gathered an armful of tansy
which she boiled to a thick green tea. Then she stirred in oatmeal until
it was a stiff paste. She spread a sheet over her bed and began tearing
strips of old muslin. She bandaged each hand and arm with the mixture
and plastered the soggy, evil-smelling stuff in a thick poultice over
her face and neck. She was so tired she went to sleep, and when she
awoke she was half skinned. She bathed her face and hands, did the
work and went back to town, coming home at night to go through the same
process.

By the third morning she was a raw even red, the fourth she had faded
to a brilliant pink under the soothing influence of a cream recommended.
That day came a letter from Elnora saying that she would remain where
she was until Saturday morning, and then come to Ellen Brownlee's at
Onabasha and stay for the Saturday's session of teachers to arrange
their year's work. Sunday was Ellen's last day at home, and she wanted
Elnora very much. She had to call together the orchestra and practise
them Sunday; and could not come home until after school Monday night.
Mrs. Comstock at once answered the letter saying those arrangements
suited her.

The following day she was a pale pink, later a delicate porcelain white.
Then she went to a hairdresser and had the rope of snowy hair which
covered her scalp washed, dressed, and fastened with such pins and combs
as were decided to be most becoming. She took samples of her dresses,
went to a milliner, and bought a street hat to match her suit, and a
gray satin with lavender orchids to wear with the silk dress. Her last
investment was a loose coat of soft gray broadcloth with white lining,
and touches of lavender on the embroidered collar, and gray gloves to
match.

Then she went home, rested and worked by turns until Monday. When school
closed on that evening, Elnora, so tired she almost trembled, came down
the long walk after a late session of teachers' meeting, to be stopped
by a messenger boy.

"There's a lady wants to see you most important. I am to take you to the
place," he said.

Elnora groaned. She could not imagine who wanted her, but there was
nothing to do but find out; tired and anxious to see her mother as she
was.

"This is the place," said the boy, and went his way whistling. Elnora
was three blocks from the high school building on the same street. She
was before a quaint old house, fresh with paint and covered with vines.
There was a long wide lot, grass-covered, closely set with trees, and
a barn and chicken park at the back that seemed to be occupied. Elnora
stepped on the veranda which was furnished with straw rugs, bent-hickory
chairs, hanging baskets, and a table with a work-box and magazines, and
knocked at the screen door.

Inside she could see polished floors, walls freshly papered in low-toned
harmonious colours, straw rugs and madras curtains. It seemed to be a
restful, homelike place to which she had come. A second later down an
open stairway came a tall, dark-eyed woman with cheeks faintly pink and
a crown of fluffy snow-white hair. She wore a lavender gingham dress
with white collar and cuffs, and she called as she advanced: "That
screen isn't latched! Open it and come see your brand-new mother, my
girl."

Elnora stepped inside the door. "Mother!" she cried. "You my mother! I
don't believe it!"

"Well, you better!" said Mrs. Comstock, "because it's true! You said you
wished I were like the other girls' mothers, and I've shot as close the
mark as I could without any practice. I thought that walk would be too
much for you this winter, so I just rented this house and moved in, to
be near you, and help more in case I'm needed. I've only lived here a
day, but I like it so well I've a mortal big notion to buy the place."

"But mother!" protested Elnora, clinging to her wonderingly. "You are
perfectly beautiful, and this house is a little paradise, but how will
we ever pay for it? We can't afford it!"

"Humph! Have you forgotten I telegraphed you I'd found some money I
didn't know about? All I've done is paid for, and plenty more to settle
for all I propose to do."

Mrs. Comstock glanced around with satisfaction.

"I may get homesick as a pup before spring," she said, "but if I do I
can go back. If I don't, I'll sell some timber and put a few oil wells
where they don't show much. I can have land enough cleared for a few
fields and put a tenant on our farm, and we will buy this and settle
here. It's for sale."

"You don't look it, but you've surely gone mad!"

"Just the reverse, my girl," said Mrs. Comstock, "I've gone sane. If you
are going to undertake this work, you must be convenient to it. And your
mother should be where she can see that you are properly dressed, fed,
and cared for. This is our--let me think--reception-room. How do you
like it? This door leads to your workroom and study. I didn't do much
there because I wasn't sure of my way. But I knew you would want a rug,
curtains, table, shelves for books, and a case for your specimens, so I
had a carpenter shelve and enclose that end of it. Looks pretty neat to
me. The dining-room and kitchen are back, one of the cows in the barn,
and some chickens in the coop. I understand that none of the other
girls' mothers milk a cow, so a neighbour boy will tend to ours for a
third of the milk. There are three bedrooms, and a bath upstairs. Go
take one, put on some fresh clothes, and come to supper. You can find
your room because your things are in it."

Elnora kissed her mother over and over, and hurried upstairs. She
identified her room by the dressing-case. There were a pretty rug, and
curtains, white iron bed, plain and rocking chairs to match her case,
a shirtwaist chest, and the big closet was filled with her old clothing
and several new dresses. She found the bathroom, bathed, dressed in
fresh linen and went down to a supper that was an evidence of Mrs.
Comstock's highest art in cooking. Elnora was so hungry she ate her
first real meal in two weeks. But the bites went down slowly because she
forgot about them in watching her mother.

"How on earth did you do it?" she asked at last. "I always thought you
were naturally brown as a nut."

"Oh, that was tan and sunburn!" explained Mrs. Comstock. "I always knew
I was white underneath it. I hated to shade my face because I hadn't
anything but a sunbonnet, and I couldn't stand for it to touch my ears,
so I went bareheaded and took all the colour I accumulated. But when
I began to think of moving you in to your work, I saw I must put up an
appearance that wouldn't disgrace you, so I thought I'd best remove the
crust. It took some time, and I hope I may die before I ever endure the
feel and the smell of the stuff I used again, but it skinned me nicely.
What you now see is my own with a little dust of rice powder, for
protection. I'm sort of tender yet."

"And your lovely, lovely hair?" breathed Elnora.

"Hairdresser did that!" said Mrs. Comstock. "It cost like smoke. But I
watched her, and with a little help from you I can wash it alone next
time, though it will be hard work. I let her monkey with it until she
said she had found 'my style.' Then I tore it down and had her show me
how to build it up again three times. I thought my arms would drop. When
I paid the bill for her work, the time I'd taken, the pins, and combs
she'd used, I nearly had heart failure, but I didn't turn a hair before
her. I just smiled at her sweetly and said, 'How reasonable you are!'
Come to think of it, she was! She might have charged me ten dollars for
what she did quite as well as nine seventy-five. I couldn't have helped
myself. I had made no bargain to begin on."

Then Elnora leaned back in her chair and shouted, in a gust of hearty
laughter, so a little of the ache ceased in her breast. There was no
time to think, the remainder of that evening, she was so tired she had
to sleep, while her mother did not awaken her until she barely had time
to dress, breakfast and reach school. There was nothing in the new life
to remind her of the old. It seemed as if there never came a minute for
retrospection, but her mother appeared on the scene with more work, or
some entertaining thing to do.

Mrs. Comstock invited Elnora's friends to visit her, and proved herself
a bright and interesting hostess. She digested a subject before she
spoke; and when she advanced a view, her point was sure to be original
and tersely expressed. Before three months people waited to hear what
she had to say. She kept her appearance so in mind that she made a
handsome and a distinguished figure.

Elnora never mentioned Philip Ammon, neither did Mrs. Comstock. Early in
December came a note and a big box from him. It contained several books
on nature subjects which would be of much help in school work, a number
of conveniences Elnora could not afford, and a pair of glass-covered
plaster casts, for each large moth she had. In these the upper and
underwings of male and female showed. He explained that she would break
her specimens easily, carrying them around in boxes. He had seen these
and thought they would be of use. Elnora was delighted with them, and
at once began the tedious process of softening the mounted moths and
fitting them to the casts moulded to receive them. Her time was so taken
in school, she progressed slowly, so her mother undertook this work.
After trying one or two very common ones she learned to handle the most
delicate with ease. She took keen pride in relaxing the tense moths,
fitting them to the cases, polishing the glass covers to the last degree
and sealing them. The results were beautiful to behold.

Soon after Elnora wrote to Philip:

DEAR FRIEND:

I am writing to thank you for the books, and the box of conveniences
sent me for my work. I can use everything with fine results. Hope I am
giving good satisfaction in my position. You will be interested to learn
that when the summer's work was classified and pinned, I again had my
complete collection for the man of India, save a Yellow Emperor. I have
tried everywhere I know, so has the Bird Woman. We cannot find a pair
for sale. Fate is against me, at least this season. I shall have to wait
until next year and try again.

Thank you very much for helping me with my collection and for the books
and cases.

Sincerely yours,

ELNORA COMSTOCK.


Philip was disappointed over that note and instead of keeping it he tore
it into bits and dropped them into the waste basket.

That was precisely what Elnora had intended he should do. Christmas
brought beautiful cards of greeting to Mrs. Comstock and Elnora, Easter
others, and the year ran rapidly toward spring. Elnora's position had
been intensely absorbing, while she had worked with all her power. She
had made a wonderful success and won new friends. Mrs. Comstock had
helped in every way she could, so she was very popular also.

Throughout the winter they had enjoyed the city thoroughly, and the
change of life it afforded, but signs of spring did wonderful things
to the hearts of the country-bred women. A restlessness began on bright
February days, calmed during March storms and attacked full force in
April. When neither could bear it any longer they were forced to discuss
the matter and admit they were growing ill with pure homesickness. They
decided to keep the city house during the summer, but to return to the
farm to live as soon as school closed.

So Mrs. Comstock would prepare breakfast and lunch and then slip away to
the farm to make up beds in her ploughed garden, plant seeds, trim and
tend her flowers, and prepare the cabin for occupancy. Then she would go
home and make the evening as cheerful as possible for Elnora; in these
days she lived only for the girl.

Both of them were glad when the last of May came and the schools closed.
They packed the books and clothing they wished to take into a wagon and
walked across the fields to the old cabin. As they approached it, Mrs.
Comstock said to Elnora: "You are sure you won't be lonely here?"

Elnora knew what she really meant.

"Quite sure," she said. "For a time last fall I was glad to be away, but
that all wore out with the winter. Spring made me homesick as I could
be. I can scarcely wait until we get back again."

So they began that summer as they had begun all others--with work. But
both of them took a new joy in everything, and the violin sang by the
hour in the twilight.




CHAPTER XIX


WHEREIN PHILIP AMMON GIVES A BALL IN HONOUR OF EDITH CARR, AND HART
HENDERSON APPEARS ON THE SCENE


Edith Carr stood in a vine-enclosed side veranda of the Lake Shore Club
House waiting while Philip Ammon gave some important orders. In a few
days she would sail for Paris to select a wonderful trousseau she had
planned for her marriage in October. To-night Philip was giving a club
dance in her honour. He had spent days in devising new and exquisite
effects in decorations, entertainment, and supper. Weeks before the
favoured guests had been notified. Days before they had received the
invitations asking them to participate in this entertainment by Philip
Ammon in honour of Miss Carr. They spoke of it as "Phil's dance for
Edith!"

She could hear the rumble of carriages and the panting of automobiles
as in a steady stream they rolled to the front entrance. She could catch
glimpses of floating draperies of gauze and lace, the flash of jewels,
and the passing of exquisite colour. Every one was newly arrayed in her
honour in the loveliest clothing, and the most expensive jewels they
could command. As she thought of it she lifted her head a trifle higher
and her eyes flashed proudly.

She was robed in a French creation suggested and designed by Philip.
He had said to her: "I know a competent judge who says the distinctive
feature of June is her exquisite big night moths. I want you to be the
very essence of June that night, as you will be the embodiment of love.
Be a moth. The most beautiful of them is either the pale-green Luna or
the Yellow Imperialis. Be my moon lady, or my gold Empress."

He took her to the museum and showed her the moths. She instantly
decided on the yellow. Because she knew the shades would make her more
startlingly beautiful than any other colour. To him she said: "A moon
lady seems so far away and cold. I would be of earth and very near on
that night. I choose the Empress."

So she matched the colours exactly, wrote out the idea and forwarded
the order to Paquin. To-night when Philip Ammon came for her, he stood
speechless a minute and then silently kissed her hands.

For she stood tall, lithe, of grace inborn, her dark waving hair high
piled and crossed by gold bands studded with amethyst and at one side
an enamelled lavender orchid rimmed with diamonds, which flashed and
sparkled. The soft yellow robe of lightest weight velvet fitted her form
perfectly, while from each shoulder fell a great velvet wing lined with
lavender, and flecked with embroidery of that colour in imitation of the
moth. Around her throat was a wonderful necklace and on her arms were
bracelets of gold set with amethyst and rimmed with diamonds. Philip had
said that her gloves, fan, and slippers must be lavender, because the
feet of the moth were that colour. These accessories had been made to
order and embroidered with gold. It had been arranged that her mother,
Philip's, and a few best friends should receive his guests. She was to
appear when she led the grand march with Philip Ammon. Miss Carr was
positive that she would be the most beautiful, and most exquisitely
gowned woman present. In her heart she thought of herself as "Imperialis
Regalis," as the Yellow Empress. In a few moments she would stun her
world into feeling it as Philip Ammon had done, for she had taken pains
that the history of her costume should be whispered to a few who would
give it circulation. She lifted her head proudly and waited, for was not
Philip planning something unusual and unsurpassed in her honour? Then
she smiled.